Where The Sun Sets
by Aquamarinalea
Summary: Italy decides to take Germany to his home country to get away from the stress of, well, being a nation. A week into their vacation and Germany has already loosened up a lot. A picnic on the beach at sunset and Italy gets to see a side of him hardly anyone knows exists. And oh, does he love it.


It was springtime; Germany and Italy were enjoying a picnic on a secluded beach in Sardinia. The beach was in a hidden bay, surrounded on three sides by cliffs that took a substantial hike to get down. Germany loved the Italian weather, so much more clement than in his own country, where rain was pouring down as if the land had been in drought for centuries. There were a few clouds in the sky to the west, occasionally breaking the sunlight and creating deep shadows across the sand. As for Italy, he was all too happy to share in his country's natural beauty, even if they were on his brother's land for the time. Romano was at Spain's house, and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. (Though he definitely would be furious if he knew the German was in his country.)

The trip had been Italy's idea. Germany had been bent over his desk doing paperwork for nearly a fortnight, and his lover thought getting away from his country could make his stress melt away. Though opposed to the idea at first, Germany eventually agreed. A week later, he found himself eating his boyfriend's pasta and enjoying the soothing sounds of the ocean. Now his walls had been torn down and his emotions exposed for all the world (or maybe just Italy) to see. The picnic blanket was nice and soft and the sun wasn't too hot. He also drank wine, as Feliciano had said it was a rather expensive one, and it definitely tasted like it. All in all, he was feeling rather relaxed, which he couldn't say very often. They'd made some small talk about the weather and the beach, but overall they ate in comfortable silence. It really was a nice day, and when Italy was finished eating he put down his plate and stood up to stretch. Germany observed him, and Italy turned around and flashed him a 1000-watt smile. "Ve! Let's go swimming!"

The man furrowed his brow. "We don't have any swimsuits, Feliciano." Italy just shrugged and began stripping. "Und aren't you supposed to wait 30 minutes before you swim?!" The other man laughed and threw his boxers at the German's face, running into the water with unabashed glee.

"Catch me if you can, Luuuuuuuuddy!" The taunt stuck with him, and he sighed, before picking up the Italian's clothes and neatly placing them on top of the picnic basket. He stripped and did the same with his own clothes, before walking down to the waterline and spying Italy floating lazily as the tide pushed and pulled gently beneath him. The sun was sinking lower behind him, beginning to form a beautiful mix of oranges and pinks in the sky, though the it still shown on the contented Italian. Germany smirked and stepped into the water as quietly as possible. When he got a reasonable distance away from the shoreline, he sank beneath the waves, and swam over to his boyfriend. Said boyfriend was lazily daydreaming, thinking Ludwig was still on shore. Kicking upwards, Germany broke the surface, only to grab Italy's foot and swim back down, dragging the smaller man with him. He didn't swim far, letting Feliciano rush back up for air. Germany followed, and Italy looked incredulous at his assailant. "Luuuudwig, why would you do something like that?"

He laughed heartily. "You did tell me to come after you, Feli." Feli looked at him with an overdramatic puppy face. "Oh, don't pout. You just look cuter." Germany really meant it, and laughed again. The laughing felt good, he hardly even smiled around most people. But he'd grown to trust Italy on a level most people didn't have. In his mirth, Italy gave up and decided he didn't very much like being laughed at. He took both hands and pushed a wall of water at the man. Germany sputtered and looked shocked, as if he hadn't done anything to deserve it.

"That's for dragging me underwater!" He splashed him again. "And that's because you interrupted my relaxing swim!" He quickly turned and swam away from the German, out of range, at least at the moment. Italy tried not to smile but was failing miserably; he loved this side of his Ludwig. It was a side most people rarely, if ever, saw.

"As if you didn't want me to interrupt it!" Germany caught up to the Italian and splashed him playfully. He received a splash of his own from his boyfriend's feet as he tried to both drench him and swim away as fast as he could. Unfortunately for Italy, he wasn't as experienced at retreating in water. Germany dove under again and caught up to him easily, until he popped up to the surface in front of the other man. Italy, wide-eyed, tried to turn, but lacked the finesse for a speedy getaway. He grabbed Italy's hand and spun him around, catching the other hand quickly and pinning him to his chest. Accepting defeat, Feliciano sighed and wrapped his arms loosely around the other's neck, surrendering, for once, reluctantly.

"Fine, you win Ludwig." He expected some sort of reply, or a kiss or even another attack, but Germany just smirked. "Whaaat?" He wined at the man, wondering why he wouldn't respond. Germany just pursed his lips, and before Italy had time to be confused by the expression, the man spat water in his face. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAH LUDWIG WHAT WAS THAT FOR!" He broke his embrace of the other man and turned, sputtering, back to the ocean, washing off his face and shaking his head. Germany chuckled, but felt a little guilty, and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, knowing he wouldn't stay mad at him for long.

"I'm sorry Feli, that was mean." Italy crossed his arms and turned his head with a "hmpf" looking away from Germany. Ludwig rolled his eyes and leaned over the Italian's left shoulder, then pressed his lips to his neck, meeting less resistance with each chaste kiss, working his way up to Italy's face. Eventually he was met with the man's lips as Feliciano dropped the stubborn façade and turned to kiss the German. They parted and Italy uncrossed his arms and wrapped them back around Germany's neck. He allowed Germany to gently kiss his forehead, feeling arms wrap around his waist.

He looked up at Germany with a smirk and dramatically sighed, "That really was mean you know."

"I'm sorry." As if.

"You don't look sorry." Came Italy's reply as he stopped treading water and wrapped his legs around Germany, forcing the larger man to tread water for both of them.

"Und you don't look offended, _Feliciano."_ He stressed the Italian's name in a way that made him forget their playful competition and refocus on the fact that they were alone and they were naked and the sun was setting and_ oh_ all the ways that they could take advantage of their situation began running through Italy's mind. He snaked his hands through his boyfriend's dripping hair and brought his head down to kiss him. Germany closed his eyes and met Italy with equaled passion, kissing him slowly and gently. Sometime in the moment he realized he'd forgotten they were in water when the weight of the Italian started to push him under. He broke the kiss and chuckled. "Maybe it'd be better to continue this on land?"

Feliciano had a mischievous look in his eye and pulled away from Ludwig, calling out, "Race ya!" before taking off in a backstroke. Not one to be beaten, Germany followed, caught up to, and passed the Italian before climbing out of the water and onto the sand. Italy wasn't far behind, and jumped into the German's arms, sending them both tumbling back onto the picnic blanket. Laughing, Italy kissed his lover multiple times on his cheeks, nose, chin, and forehead before diving back to his lips. The setting sun illuminated the landscape and bathed them in warm light, fractured sunbeams glistening on their moist skin. Ludwig smelled like the ocean and Feliciano tasted of red wine, and they forgot the wet sand on their feet and pulled each other closer, relishing in their heightened senses. Germany's lips were rough and dry in contrast with Italy's more supple ones, but they fit together like piece of a puzzle. It was intimate and slow, and Germany clung to the smaller man, as if he was afraid he would leave him.

Ludwig flipped them over so he was lying on top of Italy, supporting his torso with his left arm and cradling his lover's face with his right hand. He pulled away from the kiss and brushed his blonde locks off his forehead, then reaching out to push Italy's hair out of his eyes as well. He really was beautiful. Germany leaned forward and whispered "Ich liebe dich" into his boyfriend's ear. Feliciano's eyes fluttered open and locked with Ludwig's, and he pulled the man back into their kiss, murmuring "Ti amo" into his mouth. He wrapped his legs around the man's waist to pull him closer and create the most delicious friction. Germany let out a low moan as Italy rubbed their erections together. He let his head drop forward and Feliciano breathed on his ear, a shudder going down his spine at the sensation. Not one to be outdone, Ludwig reached out and stroked that gravity defying curl, causing Italy to stop moving altogether and moan wantonly, tipping his head back into the blanket.

The heat from their bodies seemed to radiate into the air as the last of the water evaporated off their bodies and was replaced with sweat. Germany sat up and Italy followed, straddling his lap. Feliciano ceased his lustful movements for a moment and clutched at Ludwig's face, pressing their foreheads together and looking into his eyes. He wished to stay in this moment forever, in blissful silence and peace, without war or famine and the person he loved most in the world there to experience it with him. And when Ludwig spoke, it was soft, so unlike the forceful yelling everyone was accustomed to. "You're so beautiful, Feliciano." Italy grinned and kissed him again, whispering words of love and trust against Germany's lips.

Feliciano dragged his hands down his lover's back and pressed their hips together once more. He moaned quietly into their kiss, then broke away. Leaning forward, to Germany's ear, he made sure his next words were punctuated and clear. "I want you inside me, Ludwig." Though bit blunt, they had the desired effect.

Germany shook and felt the blood rush to his cock. But he didn't move. "We didn't bring any lube, Feli." Italy looked him in the eyes and gave him a crooked grin as he bounded away from the German and over to the picnic basket, procuring a bottle from a cleverly hidden spot behind the empty wine bottle. He brought it over to Ludwig, who was looking rather amused. "Did you know this was going to happen?"

Feliciano just laughed, kneeling in front of the other man. "I think one should always be prepared." He slowly squeezed some of the lube out of the bottle, and handed it off to Ludwig. He pressed his fingers inside himself and moaned out his lover's name, causing the other to blush and stroke himself at the sight of it. He could hardly stay in control, watching his boyfriend touch himself so shamelessly, gasping out_ "Ludwig, oh oh Ludwig! Voglio il tuo grosso cazzo dentro di me!" _Germany couldn't take it anymore and flipped him onto his back, but Italy seemed conflicted.

"Are you ok, Feli?" Ludwig wanted nothing more than to make them both happy, but he stopped when he saw Italy's pensive expression.

"Sì, Ludwig, I'm fine, just, ah-" He paused. "Just let me do this…one thing…ok?" Germany was perplexed by his completely vague request, but allowed the Italian to do as he wished. The German was surprised when his boyfriend grabbed his shoulders and flipped them over, climbing on top of him.

"Feliciano, what are you…" His sentence trailed off as Italy's gaze met his own. His amber eyes were lustful and intoxicating, and when Italy shushed him he fell silent. Feliciano straddled the larger man's cock and slowly lowered himself onto it, causing Germany to gasp at the sensation. It was tight and intimate, and he felt closer than ever before with his lover. His heart raced as he took in the sight of his boyfriend riding him; Italy was equally beside himself, not-so-quietly gasping "Ooooh Ludwig!" among other lewd phrases and little snippets of Italian. Ludwig had never had the pleasure of Feliciano on top of him before, but he'd regretted not letting him do it sooner. The last rays of sunlight sifted through Italy's hair and it looked to Germany almost like he was glowing. They moved together, in sync with one another, and Germany grabbed him by the hips to steady his movements. It was slow, passionate, and declared their love to each other in a way that they could never quite put into words. Ludwig sat forward, supporting himself on one arm so he could kiss Feliciano. He allowed the Italian to wind his hands through his hair, and pulled him close enjoying the absolute bliss that pulsated all around them. It was as if they were one person, energy flowing and moving from one body to the next.

Germany cherished the fact that he was here with Italy, that this man did in fact love him, and no one else could measure up. Feli was the only one who could make him feel this way, have him seeing stars with every thrust. He began stroking Italy, and Feliciano broke away from their kiss to throw his head back breathlessly. He moaned clinging to Ludwig as they moved, and grew louder and louder until the moans turned into jumbled shouts and eventually Feliciano was screaming his name. Germany was in a similar state, running his free hand up and down Italy's back and groaning out salacious words he hoped no one could hear. He felt the grit of the sand on the Italians back, sharply different from the normally smooth and luscious skin. He pulled the man forward and pressed his lips to his neck, licking and sucking and kissing and stammering unintelligible German phrases into the smooth skin. It was so sensual, so erotic, soon it brought them both over the edge, and they wildly shouted each other's names into the fading sky. They stayed there, intertwined, for what seemed like forever, both feeling the complete adoration they already held for each other skyrocket and become feelings they didn't have a name for in either of their languages.

When they came back to earth, Feliciano rolled off of Ludwig, and onto the picnic blanket. Ludwig, completely content with the world, lay back, and pulled his boyfriend to his side. "You should do that more often." Italy couldn't help but agree as he lay his head on the German's chest and watched the sun sink below the horizon, day finally slipping into twilight. All was right with the world and the two lovers were at peace, slipping into a relaxed slumber as night grew on and the moon shone upon them, illuminating the beach and casting a soft glow on the men. Two nations, two lovers, happy and still and restful.

**If anyone really, really wants a second chapter, then say something, I might write it.**


End file.
